To set the scene, have this song playing while you read my sad post.
The date was May 31. I broke my ankle. It was also the day when I last wore anything resembling cute shoes.
Every few days, I duck into my closet and pull out shoes to try on. I do so hoping that my ankle will tolerate some stylistic improvement. I have at least one hundred pairs of shoes and boots, all of which stare at me every morning as I get ready for work.
At this point, even my comfy but vaguely geriatric Campers would be an upgrade.
“FINE,” I said to myself, “I’ll just buy awesome flats to get me through to boot season!”
But this is what 6PM.com offered me:
When I’m done sobbing and feeling mad, I plan to ask @possessionista for ideas.